Everything I've Known
by AfterUMrDurden
Summary: Set in the Mirai timeline, 1 year after M.Trunks has defeated the androids. Basking in the peace, Trunks and his mother recieve a startling visitor from their past who could change everything.


**Author's Notes: **This story takes place in Trunk's future timeline. There might be/are a few inconsistencies, but that's simply because I'm somewhat new to the genre. If anyone has any comments/questions, feel free to review. I still haven't decided if I should continue this, or where it's going to go. So, your point of view is welcome and encouraged.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own DB/Z/GT or anything in its likeness, nor claim to. All characters, unless otherwise specified, are property of their rightful owners. I am not making profit from this story, nor do I wish to.

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Prologue: Insomniatic Dawns

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"NO, ALLOW ME!"

Her hard, monotonous voice pierced his eardrums, while he watched the black-haired destruction machine tossed to the side like a rag doll. She replaced him with ease. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed to slits, her thin blonde eyebrows furrowing above them. He watched her in horror. Her pale white hands took that all too familiar form. A cold sweat ran down the back of his neck, past the rim of his black wife beater. Through his fearfully dilated azure eyes, Trunks Briefs watched every particle of energy forming between Juuhachi-gou's hands. She let out an animalistic battle cry, as a beam of golden destruction came charging at him.

Nothing could have ever prepared him for that moment. Gohan had never taught him how to stare death in the face. In the past 16 years of his life, he had never been so close that he could taste it in the air; smell the metallic corrosion swelling up his lungs. Trunks managed to swallow the hard lump that had formed in his throat out of fear. It fell to a cold lump in the pit of his empty stomach. This was it.

The blast made contact with the center of his broad chest. Trunks could feel the blast absorbed into his system. He had anticipated a certain level of pain, yet, it never came. The sounds around them were put on mute. Then, in an instant, it all came rushing toward him. Trunks felt every cell in his body fill with a nauseating sense of pain; felt them rupturing. His mind wandered as the violent aching engulfed his body.

He thought of his mother. How she would have to find out about his death through the news, because now there was no one left. She was alone in this world now. Surely, it wouldn't be long before the androids took her life too. Or, would they treat her like they had treated him: like sport? Trunks' chest tightened. A thin layer of tears glazed over his dilated eyes; the black swallowing up what remained of the blue.

He thought of Gohan. He had let him down. Despite what he had trained himself to believe, his mentor's death had truly been in vein.

He thought of his father. What he must have thought of him, even though they had never met. Trunks was sure that the proud prince of the Saiyans was disappointed in him. His son hadn't even been able to take out two simple machines after years of failed attempts.

His last thoughts were of those innocents out there in their towns, in their homes, living in that false sense of security. Tomorrow the devastating duo would be at their antics again; this time there would be no one to stop them. Trunks thought of the Earth. How, because of his incompetence, his home soon would be reduced to a landfill.

Trunks shut his eyes to the sensation of his heart stopping its brisk beating. His body fell into the massive gathering of water across the field where their final fight had begun. The last image he saw before the waves pulled him down was her. The faint strands of golden hair kissing her forehead and her steel-colored eyes. They filled with sick pleasure while her thin lips turned up in an icy smirk. Trunks felt the waves lapping at his ears, drowning out Juuhachi-gou's ominous laughter, until there was darkness.

-

Almost a year later, and she still somehow managed to haunt his dreams.

Trunks sat up in his bed, glancing outside of his bedroom window. Those large, long pastures outside of what remained of Capsule Corps. had once belonged to the glory of the city. Now, they lay in ruins much like the few remaining landmarks of the city. Dawn stretched her lazy, rosy fingertips off in the distance. The soft, insomniatic glow gave everything a blurred feel. He knew that he and his mother were alone for at least 2 miles in every imaginable direction. The world around them was sleeping soundly, and had been for a year since the annulations of the androids.

With bare feet, Trunks padded up to his window. He touched the cold glass, felt it breathing against his fingers. Another night had passed, bringing in yet another day he would have to cling to scraps of sleep he'd pasted together throughout the previous days. No matter what he did, it was never enough. Allowing a small sigh to escape his dry lips, Trunks set about starting his day.

For nearly a year, it had started the same way. He would awaken from a half-concious slumber that never allowed him to awaken fully rested. Typically, he would awaken with a dream. They weren't always the same, however, there were a choice few that made their apperance more frequently. The day she had almost killed him was a common one, beat only by the day that he had actually ended her life. Then, after having been successfully shaken, he would go into town. Sleep was impossible at that point. Sometimes, he would run errands for Bulma. Or, help with the towns restoration. Other days, he would fly aimlessly about the city, thinking of what could have been; what _should_ have been. Today felt like one of those days.

After having changed into his clothes for the day, Trunks wandered the deserted halls of Capsule Corps. in search of his mother's room. He passed her office, the kitchen, one of their downstairs bathrooms, and a door that remained eternally locked. As a boy Trunks remembered having his curiosity ripping him apart. It was not until he learned much later that the room had been his father's that Trunks had learned to let the curiously go. He understood then why the door remained locked. His mother's fragile heart could not stand to have it opened.

He came to the end of the hall shortly after passing that room. Her bedroom was the final door. Her bedroom door was never fully shut or locked; always left with a small crack for Trunks should he ever need anything. As far back as he could remember, Trunks knew his mother to follow this tradition. Silently, he pushed the door open further to reveal his mother's sleeping form. She slept on the right side of the bed, curled into a fetal position. The left side of the bed was empty, in respect for her late husband. Her long pool of turquoise hair spilled over the virgin white sheets, kissed with fleeting verses of gray. Careful not to wake her, Trunks set a small note on the nightstand next to what might have been the only picture in existence of his parents together.

_Mother, I've gone into town. I'll be back soon.  
__-Trunks_

His mother didn't even stir. He was thankful.

It wasn't until Trunks was well overhead of the remains of their town that he felt his mother's awaken power level in their home below. Content with her safety, he took off in a direction he had avoided for nearly a year.


End file.
